The Handshake
by WildPyro
Summary: In college they tell you: It's not about the classes you take; it's the hands you shake. Ana is an Economics intern at Grey Enterprises, and realizes she has been shaking the wrong hands all along.
1. Chapter 1

**Ana's background is different as you can see from the Summary. Everyone else is still the same :) she's 22 and Christian is 28. She's still living with Kate.**

**Regarding the incident with Between the Line (my other story), don't worry. I wrote that in the heat of the moment and will most likely update tomorrow (just trying to set everything right).**

**In the meantime, I've deleted my previous stories because, quite frankly, I just want to focus on one or two and between this and Blackout, I'm giving this one a shot.**

**I adored writing this chapter. A different Ana, more confident, but yet still vulnerable.**

**I hope you truly like this as much as I do. I write this for you and because your everyday feedback motives more than you can possibly imagine. Thank you!**

* * *

_"The only source of knowledge is experience." A. Einstein_

* * *

It's 9 am sharp.

We've been told that punctuality isn't an option here. Not that any of us would dare crossing the rules on our first day.

My name is Anastasia Steele and I've recently graduated from Washington State University majored in Economic Sciences with the specialization of Financial Markets. I'm twenty two years old and this is my first day of a four week internship.

Beside me I have my two colleagues, Lewis and Lilly, that were also selected to be part of the program. I would characterize us three as very competitive and ambitious people. The rest of our class was split into several groups and each one would get a chance at a pioneer company around the state.

We got Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. which is global leader in communications technologies, eco manufacturing, and the next generation farming solutions.

Each of of will be placed under the supervision of one of three of the CEO's business associates and every week they will have to fill a performance review.

So, yes. A pretty demanding internship for someone who just yesterday was having her last class.

This all new shiny leather chair and glistening floors is relatively new to all of us. Of course, we are all ambitious enough to know where we want to set our careers.

Behind a marble desk sits a very neat blonde young woman that has yet to come welcome us into this massive world.

Lewis is the first to notice our invisibility. "We should go and introduce ourselves."

"They know we're here," Lilly Carvey says, looking too insecure to take the first step.

She is your typical American girl: from the light blonde hair to the aqua eyes and shaped body. You'd think she'd do better at a modeling agency, but her father wouldn't have such 'outrageous' attitude in the family.

But when you look at Lewis Xang you get the Asian top of the class guy whose main target is to be better than anyone else around him. Coming from a family of doctor, his decision to pursue a different road struck his family hard, and he knew they expected double from him now.

I don't know them very well apart from this usual college gossip. It may not even be true.

We're all dressed to fit the company's expectations of three hard-working interns.

Kate, my roommate, had insisted on me not wearing a blazer and just stick with the skirt-shirt combination. I just think this is all about first impressions. You give them a neat look, and they'll look at you differently.

We're just standing there, waiting for someone to take the initiative.

Just when Lewis is about to pace to the desk, the elevator doors behind us slide open and a tall, nicely dressed, dark copper hair man enter the room.

The environment shifts almost immediately; Lewis fidgets too notoriously at my side; Lilly turns her back on the man, pretending to be looking for something in her work bag; and I just stand there with my blue eyes fixed on him as he approaches us.

He's definitely very young. Almost _too_ young for such fuss to be made.

So this is Christian Grey, the infamous young businessman that thrives in is not-so-little top company. Lean features give the impression of him being a very wanted man. He certainly cares about the way he looks, and I think he knows how to use it when it's most convenient.

The reputation precedes him. Charming and equally demeaning. I've done my homework about him. I don't know much, but I know enough. Kate had done an interview of him about two years ago and provided some information that I decide to use as a leverage.

First thing?

A firm handshake.

"Mr. Grey," I greet, extending my right hand to him. "My name is Anastasia Steele."

I don't think he expected my fast introduction, but takes in my hand and gives two shakes. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Steele."

Kate told me he likes to get a first impression based on the first handshake. It has to be firm and confident enough. In some cultures, a man's personality is reflected in the way he does it.

I try to apply a certain amount of pressure as I receive a tight grip in response. It's precise.

At this, he smiles. It seems that I reach his standards.

Following my lead, Lewis and Lilly proceed their own introductions, probably not caring how they shake his hand.

As I've heard many time: the devil is in the details.

The blonde woman stands up and walks to meet us. "Good morning, sir. These are the interns from WSU."

The three of us look at him as if we're expecting something too important to come out of his mouth.

He looks at the young woman and then back at us. "Already? Weren't they suppose to come next week?"

And just like someone who has been rehearsing this speech at home, Lewis clears his throat and speaks. "Our tutor told us that three weeks would not be enough to meet the specific requirements for a more fully performance review."

This seems to impress Mr. Grey as he widens his eyes for a moment. "Very well," he then turns to his assistant again. "Has Ros arrived yet, Andrea?"

"No, sir," she answers promptly. "Do you want me to call her?"

He then glances at his watch, impatiently. "Well, Mr. Xang will wait for her," he turns to Lewis. "She'll be your supervisor."

Lewis nods, always maintaining his professional manner. "Thank you, Mr. Grey."

Then Mr. Grey turns to both me and Lilly. He spends a few seconds examining us before finally speaking. "Thomas Meyer will be your supervisor, Miss Carvey."

I can see some disappointment in her face. It's obvious Mr. Grey's alluring looks would have been a great motivator to her.

"He must be arriving at any moment," Andrea politely tells her.

And I'm the last one remaining. A few more seconds of roaming his eyes up and down my frame. It's as if he's deciding on what to eat for breakfast.

He runs a hand though his hair and says. "You'll be staying with Harvey Kent, Miss Steele."

This probably feels harsher than it should. While researching about Christian Grey I came across some details and personality traits that I greatly admire about a leading man. From his demanding personality to his undeniable skills in business-making.

I nod, trying not to let my sudden gloomy face show.

"Mr. Grey, Mr. Kent will be flying to New York today, for the meeting with our associates," Andres informs before he can enter his office.

His hand on the handle halts, and he turns to me with a smile. "My mistake, Miss Steele. You'll be joining me, then."

Andrea tilts her head, indicating me to follow him inside, and I quickly pace behind him.

As he shuts the door behind us, I can't help but to feel in awe. His office is simply furnished, but with traces of modern decor. A few pieces of art hang on the walls, but not overcrowding them. Maybe one day I'll have an office like this.

He offers me a seat by his desk as he places his black leather briefcase on top of it. "Well, Miss Steele, do you take something to drink?"

I place my hands on my lap, restraining my nerves. It's one thing to see interviews and magazine covers of him. But standing next to this Mr. Grey is certainly a new experience to me.

"A glass of water, thank you."

He nods, smiling lightly, and walks over to a coffee table nearby a couch, taking his time to pour some water inside two glass cups.

Handing me one, he leans against the desk, sitting slightly while looking down at me. "So, Miss Steele... what made you choose Economics?"

"Um, my father holds a small business back where I'm from, Montesano," I control my voice to maintain a calm tone. "I'd often go there and help him with his clients. Over time, I developed some interest in learning how my father controlled everything, but more essentially, the money."

He keeps staring at me. "So, you're going back to take control?" He asks, seemingly interested. "What sort of business are we talking about?"

"Farming supplies," I answer. "I'm not sure I'll be inheriting that business. It's pretty much dead. The economy has been giving little stabs each year."

"Understandable," he muses, flicking a finger across his chin. After a brief sip, he speaks again. "What do you think makes a perfect business, Miss Steele?"

My mouth runs dry. Is he testing me? Is there a wrong answer? "I think that's pretty much unreachable. Every business has its flaws. It's about control and always know how to react accordingly with the economy."

He shakes his head. I'm wrong? "That's the answer they teach you in college. I want the realistic one."

Isn't this realistic enough? I speak, confused. "Managing profit and expense?"

Another shake, and he almost seems to be enjoying my inability to answer to what he wants. "It's a shark world, Miss Steele. It's kill or be killed. We all live in a very, very tiny pond. What happens when we start growing? There's no space for the others. That's how business works."

I widen my eyes, impressed by this simple but direct answer. "That's a very interesting point of view."

"I know," He says, placing his glass on the table. "Too bad not everyone sees it like this. Some people enter business thinking that we can all live harmoniously. Well, we can't."

He makes this look like a battlefield. "Isn't that opinion a bit extreme?"

"You think so?" he asks, surprised. "What do you think a person does when they've reached the top?"

"Eliminate competition?"

Another smile. "Wrong. You want competition," he confesses. "When you stop having it, it means you stop mattering to others. You're obsolete."

Now that's a clever thing to say. "But competition will probably do everything to bring you down."

"Oh, you can be sure of that," he agrees. "That's why I choose my business partners _really_ well, Miss Steele."

I let him carry on his explanation.

"It's not just about your 'enemies'. Every day I have tons of request from starting companies seeking my support and investment. You'd look at the numbers, right, Miss Steele? Profit and expense."

I nod.

"Well, not me," he moves away from the desk and starts pacing slowly around the room. My gaze following his lean frame wherever he's going. "I look at people. You make business with people, and people are treacherous."

I raise an eyebrow. "So what do you do to select the ones worthy of your trust?"

"Background check." He simply answers, hands in his pockets.

"That doesn't seem very... ethical," I admit quite bluntly. "You snoop around their private affairs?"

"Do you think I want to be dealing with people related to drugs or human traffic?" He asks, his voice stern. "I check what I need to know about them, and if nothing relevant comes up, I set up a meeting."

"Would you like people do that to you, Mr. Grey?" I suddenly ask, not able to restrain my words. "Checking some secret you may have? Interpreting it as they see fit?"

His eyes narrow at me. "Do you think I have some secret, Miss Steele?"

"I don't think you're a man who can afford to have one."

A sly smile crosses his face.

* * *

**Let me know what you think :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I admit, I wasn't expecting this reception. Truly. I thought... oh well... maybe this idea doesn't interest people. But it does! And I'm soooo happy and grateful! All those amazing reviews! **

**On a side note, for those who did not see my AN yesterday, there are links to my Facebook and Pinterest pages on my profile, so make sure to check those out for updates and goodies!**

**Also, I'm considering writing some chapter in Christian's POV, because you also deserve to know what goes inside his head ;) let me know what you think.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." A. Lincoln_

* * *

After our first conversation, I realized many things: Economics is nothing like they teach you in college; people are either with you or against you, and there is something vastly mysterious about Christian Grey.

The fact that he became a success before his thirties is a proof of that. However, I know a lot of young men are out there right now trying to make their business reach the top. Not Christian Grey. His revolutionary ideas transformed everything people were used to when it comes to starting something for yourself. So, naturally, he is overprotective of what he's accomplished.

He has to be on top of everything. Nothing gets approved without his consent. To sum it all up, he deserves the respect he's earned over the years.

But something else worries me. The fact that he performs background checks on everyone he comes across leaves me restless. I understand he needs to be sure, but something tells me those checks aren't merely reserved for business partners.

I hope I'm wrong.

After a quick lunch, I returned to his office ready to get my hands dirty.

How wrong I was.

Since 2 pm he's been flooded with constant phone calls and sudden meetings that eventually break his attempt to teach me more. I think he'd be a good teacher, honestly. He's not overly patient, but his vocabulary and his euphemisms truly capture one's attention. Not to mention the steady soothing tone he coats his words with.

And I'm not even going to linger my thoughts on his extremely good looks. This man knows how to dress. That allied to a pretty face does wonders for the eyes, and mine aren't complaining.

He's left the office once again, leaving me with the _extremely _difficult task of just wait for him. Boredom strikes me as I paced around the large room, searching for things that may entertain me in the meantime.

The fair amount of paintings hanging on the walls gives me the impression that he has a very sensitive taste. Expensive, yet sensitive. It's clear he enjoys art and simple things. Nothing in this office is too much. Just the right amount.

With one scary swing, the doors hang open and he enters, phone placed at his ear. "I'll do it tomorrow. No, not that. Urgent? I'll see what I can do."

He quickly returns his phone inside his jacket, turning to face me. "I'm sorry, Miss Steele. It seems my agenda today isn't the best to tutor you."

Does he really think he needs to apologize? He's a busy man. I didn't expect otherwise.

I immediately pace towards my work bag, but he interrupts me. "I'm not sure my partner will be here tomorrow to take my place, but you'll have some homework, Miss Steele."

Really? At this, I quirk an eyebrow at him. He walks over to his desk, rummaging through some sheets, finally grabbing two file folders.

After shuffling the contents briefly, he hands them to me. "Your first assignment to prove you've listened to what I've told you about people and business."

"Um, and what exactly is it you want me to do?" I shift my gaze from what's in my hands back to him.

"Analyze both situations and e-mail me about your decision later tonight."

"E-mail you?" I'm lost now.

A brief smirk lifts his lips. "Do you have a problem with that, Miss Steele?"

"_Oh_-no!" And I thought my stuttering was long gone. "No problem at all, Mr. Grey."

"Excellent!" His smile widens, as he takes what I think is a Mont Blanc pen. Damn. That's some expensive pen. He then quickly writes something in a piece of paper.

After he gives it to me, I look only to see his e-mail written in a very fetching calligraphy. Something I rarely see from a man.

I put them inside my bag, still shaken by this sudden demand. I'm not going to lie, I thrive on challenges. It's the best way one can prove to be more than ordinary. Obviously, this man is everything but common. He knows what to ask from people.

As soon as I straighten, he is the first to offer a hand. Apparently, we're playing some game neither acknowledges. Our hands finally connect in a tight embrace. This one is completely different from the one before. After two light shakes, I feel his thumb run along my hand, and with a sting of pain I flinch, but he doesn't let go. This feels more personal. Almost intimate.

"You've got a cut here."

"Hm?" I ask, too absorbed in his gray gaze to process what he just said.

I see him rise my hand so he can take a better look. He then says, with a low voice. "It's small. Make sure you disinfect this."

Oh. That. A paper cut from earlier today. I had almost forgotten about it. He's still holding my hand, and this is getting awkward. The man before me clearly realizes this, because he all of a sudden retrieves his hand, clearing his throat.

"Well, I'm already running late, Miss Steele," He informs me, quite politely, with his briefcase in hand. "Don't forget to send me your answer tonight."

He waits for me to gather my things, and walk towards the office door, swinging it open so I can exit with him behind me.

Andrea is sitting beside another blonde woman, and both stand up when they see him. She is the first to talk. "Mr. Grey, I have the paperwork you request ready."

And just like that, I'm invisible again. Before he goes after his assistant, I see him shooting a quick glance at him. Another devious smile on his lips.

Damn.

I've shaken many hands in my life, and I don't know what sort of secret he has to have such an expressive one, but I've come to the conclusion these handshakes will become my new favorite thing.

* * *

Kate sends me a message informing me she's waiting for me in she's waiting for me two blocks from here. Not taking long, I drive Wanda to the meeting place, parking it nearby.

You can say she's pretty much the opposite of myself. I repel fashion with a natural force, where she seems to be attracted to it unconditionally. Her strawberry blonde hair and lean body are also pluses she allies to this. Currently, she's an intern at The Seattle Times, but that doesn't prevent her from dressing with a long blazer and matching skirt. Professional, yet still very attractive.

Her loose hair swings as the wind fans her face. "What took you so long? I've been here for an hour. I had to eat two cupcakes to entertain myself."

I can't resist laughing at her, joining her at a round table just outside a coffee named Jukes. "Sorry, I got caught up with work."

She wrinkles her nose. "Already?"

"Well, you know _him_," that's all I answer her, trying to catch my breath. "But it's been a good experience so far."

"Do tell."

A young waitress approaches us. "What can I get for you?"

Oh, I need something sweet. To be honest, I was so nervous at lunch that I had barely even touched my food. "Do you have rice pudding?"

"Yeah," she grabs a pencil. "One?"

"Yes, please," I ask, already feeling my mouth salivate.

But Kate knows me too well. "What's with all the sugar-need?"

I shrug dismissively. "I'm in the mood."

"You have to tell me what were your first impressions of _Mr. Grey_," Kate grins expectantly, swirling a finger on her glass of water.

"He's still the same you described two years ago," I simply answer, not wanting her to realize how he had affected me. "Very polite, definetely likes to be in control and has an impressive business sense."

A perfect lined brow rises. "That's it? No 'oh, he's so good looking and charming'?"

"I'm not there to look at my temporary boss like that, Kate."

"Oh, stop it!" Kate pats my arm jokingly. She's _so_ persistent. "Be honest. It's not like I'm going to publish something about it anyway."

"There was something that actually took me by surprise."

Kate's eyes are glowing, expecting me to confess love at first sight, probably. "Tell, tell."

"Do you know how he sorts out business partners?"

I can see her lean against her chair in disappointment. Not what she wanted to hear. "How?"

"Background checks," I say, curling a loose strand of hair in my finger. "Don't you find it odd?"

"Are you being serious, Ana?" Kate rolls her eyes. "They all do that. He's the owner of a billionaire company. He would never take the risk, right?"

I nod. "I agree, but... background checks?"

The waitress stops by our table, bringing a bowl with rice pudding. "Thank you," I tell her, before resuming our conversation. "Would you like him checking on your private affairs?"

"Of course not," she admits as a matter of fact. "But that's how things are done."

I can't help but to feel a slight shudder run through me. "What if he's snooping on my private life?"

"And find what? That you've killed your goldfish when you were twelve? _Please_, Ana."

Okay, she's got a point. "I just don't think it's fair he gets to investigate people's private life and base his decision on that alone. What if a man has a wife and two kids, but every Friday night he goes to a club to buy a lap dance from a girl?"

"So?" Kate asks. "He's not going to turn down a business deal because that man pisses out of the pot, right?"

Bringing a spoon to my mouth, I nod again. "I guess you're right. I'm just realizing college really omits many things from students."

"Obviously," Kate says, combing her hair with two fingers. "Too bad we only know that once we get out. It seems they want us all to be perfect citizens when the whole world is backstabbing everyone in the meantime."

Deciding this subject no longer presents itself as an issue I like to talk about, I speak again. "I have homework, though."

This definitely catches her attention. "Homework?"

"Yes," I answer, wiping my lips with a napkin. "And I have to send the answer tonight by e-mail."

She raises a hand. "Wait, I thought you were to be paired with one of his business partners."

"I was, but the one meant for me is on a business trip to New York, so I got stuck with Christian Grey."

Kate shortened the space between us. "You lucky slime! A whole day with him?"

"It's not what you're thinking!" I immediately snap. "He was just being polite."

This doesn't convince her, though. "Oh man, did he give you one of his trademark deep stares?"

Many, actually. "I didn't notice," I lie, revolving the pudding with the spoon. "I was busy listening to him rather than looking."

Again, she sits back. "Shame. He's one of those man that has that sort of subtle power over people. I noticed it and I was in the room with him for only one hour."

"Yes, but you're very perceptive, Kate," I point out. It's true.

"Even so."

She then taps her chin, thoughtfully. "But what do you mean by 'homework'?"

"He's given me two business deals, and he wants me to tell him which one I'd choose."

"How so?"

I sit straighter, assuming a more professional pose. "Well, the first one is about a man who owns a company that profits a couple of millions, but Christian's searches told him he's involved with some drug dealers. The other one is the opposite, a modest young man starting out with a clean record."

"That seems a pretty easy choice for me," Kate says, putting on her DKNY sunglasses. "Who would pick a criminal?"

Before my early meeting with Mr. Grey I would have answered the same. "It's not as simple as that. I'll ell him I would chose none."

"Really?"

"Yes. None would be good deal."

As I finish my sentence, Kate's phone buzzes. "Oh, shit. I've got to get going, Ana. I still have a few more hours before I get out of work."

Quickly raising to her feet, she pecks my cheek, elegantly walking away.

* * *

The clock marks 10 pm.

I'm staring at my laptop screen, both folders in my hands, deciding what to write. Well, I know what I want to say, I just don't know how to put it into words.

After a few seconds, I write the e-mail, hoping he doesn't think of me as a stupid young girl that is just over-thinking.

As I stand up, heading to the kitchen, a loud beep is heard. What? Already?

* * *

_**From:** Christian Grey_

_**Subject:** Answer_

_**Date:** 12 October 2011 22:03_

_**To:** Anastasia Steele_

_Miss Steele,__  
_

_it seems to me we'll have to go through this subject again. _

_I do hope that tiny cut isn't bothering you much. You seemed very tense._

_Christian Grey_

_CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc._

What the _hell_?


	3. Chapter 3

**As promised. Enjoy!**

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**Until next week!**

**I'll reply to your PM's as soon as possible, dearies! :)**

* * *

_"Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire." A. H._ _Glasgow_

* * *

"Kate! You were supposed to wake me up!"

Clothes and shoes fly across my bedroom as I try to find a decent attire for today. It's almost 9 am, and I've overslept. Great way to start your second day, Ana.

"I had no idea!" She shouts from the living room.

It doesn't matter. I've got this. After I finally get dressed and push my hair into a messy bun, I exit to the kitchen just in time to grab the last toast from Kate's hands.

"Hey!"

"I'm late!" I protest, stuffing it in my mouth, before she could sneak it away. Apparently, Kate won't be going to work until later, so there's no problem.

She stares at me hard. "One day I'll get you to wear make up, Anastasia Steele. The bags under your eyes are awful."

"Thanks," I manage to say, chewing. Where are my car keys? "Have you seen the keys?"

"No," she says, pouring some milk on cup for me. "I don't think you'll make it to Seattle in time, Ana. Just call and say you'll be late."

I grab the cup and eagirly drink the content, almost causing me to choke. "No way!"

Wanda will behave. There will be no traffic, and all will end well. After finding them, I pace quickly to the entrance.

"Um, Ana?"

"What?" I snap, almost stepping out.

"You're going out without your shoes?"

Fuck.

* * *

Much like I'd foreseen, the traffic was chaotic, making me enter the colossal building at half past nine. I place my 'Intern' badge just in time before security stops me, and press the twentieth floor, sweating like crazy.

To top it all off, my nerves don't seem to settle as I recall last night's e-mail exchange between me and a certain CEO. Maybe I'm just seeing things. He as just worried for my cut. No. Men like him don't mind trivial things.

The elevator trembles slightly, shaking me off my thoughts. The doors slide open, allowing me to quickly approach Andrea that is sitting behind her dress, looking flawless as always.

"I'm so sorry for being late," I say, my breathing erratic. "The traffic... chaotic."

She doesn't seem to care at all. "Mr. Kent is waiting for you in his office. It's the first door on the right."

What? Oh. I almost forgot who was _really_ meant to 'tutor' me here. After yesterday's interesting conversation, I expected I'd be tied with him again.

Unconsciously, a scowl comes to my face, getting Andrea's attention.

"Any problem with that?"

Realizing how affected I look, my face resumes its usual pleasant lines. "Not at all. Thank you."

I make my way to the first door and knock slightly, only to find it slightly open. A man in his thirties is sitting on a couch with Christian Grey, and as soon as he noticed me standing there, both fix their stares on me. Needless to say Mr. Grey's is the one that makes me feel too uncomfortable.

"You're late," the so called Harvey Kent says, his face blank.

"I'm sorry," I immediately respond, my heart beating faster as their gazes intensify. "The traffic was chaotic."

Not totally convinced, he says. "Well, come in and close the door."

So much for entering unnoticed and free of collateral damage. His office isn't even a third of Christian Grey's, and that's pretty understandable. However, this one has more display of luxurious possessions; a pelt carpet decorates the floor with a white modern desk on top of it; Picasso paintings cover the walls, interpolating with some diplomas and prizes. What's up with this company and so many young people getting prestigious prizes?

I'm just standing in the center of the room, waiting expectantly for him to tell me what to do.

Soon after, he speaks. "Don't just stand there, Miss Steele. There are briefcases on my desk that need attention."

Wow. How rude. My previous straight back bends in discomfort as I place my work bag on the floor, grabbing the pile of paper on the desk. What was I expecting? Nice words and a pat on my shoulder?

"Good morning, Miss Steele." I hear a voice behind me, but I don't need to turn around to guess who it belonged to.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey."

Apparently, Mr. Kent is on the phone, leaving both of us free to have a moment. I just prefer not staring into his eyes for the time being. It's hard enough that I'm stuck with a rude man, knowing that the role model I want to follow is just standing next to me as if to tease.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I say, breaking the awkward silence between us. "What did I get wrong?"

"Who said you were wrong?"

"I assumed... with what you wrote," I answer, this time looking at his bright eyes. "I just want to know."

A side-smile lips the corner of his lips, making me regret turning to face him. "Miss Steele, I believe this subject needs a more personal approach and-"

"Please," I interrupt him, knowing he's giving me excuses.

I don't think he's used to being interrupted. His previous playful tone changed into a more serious one. "Are you always this persistent?"

"I prefer calling it ambitious , Mr. Grey," I blurt out, forgetting for a brief moment who I'm talking to.

Fortunately for me, my bluntness is rewarded by a sincere smile. "Lunch in the cafeteria, Miss Steele. 1 pm."

All of a sudden, something unknown dances happily inside me at his proposal. This must mean I'm not indifferent to him. If he wanted, he could simply push me away, but I guess he values a strong personality. Or maybe I'm just reading this differently from reality.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey."

"_Don't_ be late," he warns me. "Punctuality is out of the question here, Miss Steele."

His tone is frigid, but his gray eyes betray his attempt at scolding me. I fight the urge to smile at him, pretending I notice nothing.

Mr. Kent soon joins his seat behind the desk, making Mr. Grey speak.

"See you later, Kent," he then turn his face to me, before leaving. "Miss Steele."

My name rolled on his tongue in a way I've never heard before. As if his presence wasn't enough to set my heart on fire.

"Miss Steele?"

Oh. _Damn_. I have been staring at the close door far too long. My eyes meet Mr. Kent's. What can I say about him? He's not all that bad looking, but his face bears nothing at all. It appears that I've met both ends of the 'interesting scale' in this company already. Mr. Grey being on top, obviously; and this dull man being way below him.

"You've done some case sorting, right?"

I straighten in my seat. "Yes. With Mr. Grey."

He waves a hand dismissively. "Okay. I want these twenty cases done until lunch. I have to go pick my daughter from school. She's ill."

He's leaving me alone in his office?

"anything you need, call Andrea," He points at the intercom in his desk. "More importantly, don't touch anything. I'll know."

He then shifts his gaze to two security cameras. Geez, paranoid much?

"Yes, sir."

* * *

As I head towards the cafeteria to grab something to eat, I suddenly remember my appointment with Miss Steele. A spontaneous smiles comes to my lips as I recall her nervous attitude around me just earlier this morning.

I've met a lot of ambitious people, and she did fit into that category, but the mix between nervous and persistent makes something twitch inside me. Something I rarely experience these days. No money in the world can buy honest feelings, and I don't think she's aware of how explosive hers are to me.

Like any good student, she knows how the market works. However, she doesn't know what makes it bend to your will. After her e-mail last night I came to the conclusion that she has a hell of potential. Unfortunately, this will all be lost unless I take some actions.

And I'm planing on it.

I'm not surprised she's already sitting in one of the round tables, still not eating. I glance at my watch. It's five to one. She's early, and I reckon it's to make up for her earlier tardiness.

Before I enter the cafeteria, I stand there studying her for a moment. I'm an observant person by nature. I like to read and know how to get them to do my commands. Anastasia is just siting there innocent and oblivious that she's being watched.

Fuck. I'm letting a certain head get the best of me. I'm used to being in control, but I'll just scare her away if I show any intentions other than professional interest.

"Grey, are you okay?"

A hand on my shoulder breaks the gaze I had fixed on her. Fuck this Kent. "Just wondering something."

"Look, I'll have to leave early," He says to me, apparently all packed to go. "Tell Miss Steele to get things done until the end of the day."

Before i know it, I speak. "She's not incompetent, Kent."

He twists his face awkwardly. "Um. Okay."

Without further ado, he leaves my sight. The only reason I haven't fired his lazy ass is because he's got charisma. Behind that stern temperament, he's still able to reel in the best of business opportunities. But I admit, Anastasia will not thrive under his teachings. He just wants his paperwork to be done efficiently.

I dive one hand inside my jacket to retrieve my wallet, walking inside. Some people shift their gazes to me, as usual. Between greetings and smiles, I get to Miss Steele in no time.

"May I?" I ask rhetorically, catching her off guard.

"Of course, Mr. Grey."

I should just go and grab lunch, but I want to do something first.

"Can you tell me now what you thought of my answer? She asks, not too sure.

I unbutton the bottom of my jacket, allowing me to seat more freely. "It was the ideal one, Miss Steele."

She looks confused. "The ideal one?"

"Ideally, we would not pick either. But since we don't live in an ideal world, I'd pick the first case."

This totally shifts her face into something more outraged. "Even knowing you'd be dealing with drugs? What about the minor companies? You too know the struggles of first starting a business. You're basically not giving them a chance."

Like I've said, I know many ambitious people, but not once has ever crossed me like this. I want to shut her mouth with violently, and punish her mindless words, but that would have to wait for the time being.

"So you'd be willing to risk millions in a company with no guarantee of success, rather than the other?"

"Yes. No doubts."

Damn. She's good. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear, Miss Steele."

Seeing her face blush into a proud tone, I say. "But don't forget this; excuses don't pay expenses."

I sense I've thrown her out of her comfort zone. She knows I'm right, but won't admit it. That only increases my urge to have a word with her in a certain red room.

"Miss Steele, I have something to propose."

Her previously nervous pose shifts into a more relaxed one. "What, Mr. Grey?"

I've always had this... fling for teaching. I think I would make a good one, honestly," I say. "And I would like to test that with you."

"Um. What?"

"Tonight, at my house," I say, impatiently. I just want her to say yes. "I'll teach you the real world of business-making, Miss Steele. If you're willing to learn from the best."

Both her eyes widen in surprised. Damn her and her alluring attitudes. Am I moving too quickly? Probably. DO I regret this? Fuck no.

"Just me? What about my colleagues?"

I inwardly roll my eyes. Always so selfless. "If you don't invite them I won't."


	4. Chapter 5

**My mother has been in the hospital for the past three weeks, and I haven't found the motivation to keep writing. I'm not giving up/abandoning. I owe you an explanation for my sudden disappearance. Thank you all for the amazing support messages, and for sticking with me till the end.**

**Thank you. **


	5. Chapter 6

**I'M BACK! YEYEYE! After weeks and weeks with no update and massive headaches, I'm finally here, my dear readers J**

**I've been reading some new stories and there is one in particular that I recomend. It's extremely AU, but it has so much potential. Its title is The Crime of Father Grey, and you can guess what it's about ;) check it out!**

**Anyway, please enjoy!**

* * *

I've learned several important things since my short 'meeting' with Christian Grey.

1. I am _never _good around men.

2. I seem to forget that everytime they corner me.

3. Kate will never leave me alone.

4. I'm getting more out of this internship than I bargained for.

5. It's 7 pm and I'm in bed.

Shit.

I hear the front door being shut quickly. Kate's home.

I scramble out of my bed so fast that I barely avoid a fatal accident involving a carpet and two very clumsy feet. If she catches me sulking in bed, I'll never hear the end of it.

Stumbling into the living room as naturally as possible, I pretend being busy cleaning the messier room. Let's say we're not exactly the dream housewives, and we slack our duties regularly.

Luckily for me, she's talking to someone on the phone, leaving me to pick up some shoes and shirts splattered all around.

I'm supposed to be picked up by my boss at 10 pm for our so called meeting. As usual, my insecure personality kicks in, allowing me to have second thoughts about this. There's nothing wrong with being someone's first choice, right? Even though some people may think otherwise. Not to mention his mysterious stare during our conversation.

However, I'm keen to learn and he wants to teach. Why should it leave room for second intentions? I'd never take advantage of this. Yes, I'm sure some other desperate girl might see this as the perfect opportunity to get something else out of this. Well, not me.

Ever.

Unfortunately, my nerves betray my supposed self-confidence, and as soon as I ready to return to my room, Kate calls me.

"What happened, Ana?"

I give her a pained smile. "Hm?"

This girl never misses a thing which makes it really hard to even think about hiding this.

"You only do laundry when you're stressing," she points out, placing her belongings near the couch. "What's stressing you?"

The pile of clothes in my hands falls heavily on the floor. "My boss is picking me up at about 10 pm."

Kate's eyes bulge out of her head and she eventually fails at holding back her laughter. Great. "Already, Ana? You've been there for two days."

"It's not like _that_!"

"Who are you trying to fool, hm?" She shots, sitting on her couch with her judgmental glare fixed on me. "And by the way you're blushing, it seems to me it's more than it should be."

A jab of discomfort cuts through my head. Yes, who am I trying to fool? Kate's love life is irritatingly easy. She probably suspects more than the obvious, since my lack of experience may cloud my mind at times like these.

"He's taken na interest in me. Not like that!" I immediately add, seeing her face twist into a naughty smile. "He has a lot to teach, and offered his help to help me through this business mess."

Kate flicks her tongue thoughtfully. "What have you done to gather his interest that far, then?"

My brows furrow together. "Can't a woman be good at something without meaning she wants to anything else?"

I feel her curiosity decrease. "I didn't say that, but catching Christian Grey's attention isn't exactly that easy. Remember what my father had to do to get me that interview? He never gives anything without charging something in return."

Kate and her movie plots. I know enough about my boss to see when he's trying to get something other than a professional relationship out of me.

"I doubt he'd do that, Kate."

She holds up a hand. "Wait, are you going alone?"

"Yes."

One little word sets Kate over the roof. "Are you that naive, Anastasia? Business meeting my ass."

Unwillingly, my initial thoughts start to fuse with hers, and I can't help but to feel slightly disgusted at myself.

"Could he really be trying something else?"

"Maybe. Just keep your distance. A paparazzi at the right place and time may screw your hopes of na honest career."

I sigh heavily, sinking next to her and eventually dragging my head down to her lap "I almost forgot he's a celebrity around here."

"Well, I suppose you'll see right through him if his intentions are indeed that obvious, right?" She asks warmly, dragging her fingers playfully through my hair. "Where will he take you?"

"His apartment." I sigh miserably.

Even though my head his resting on her lap, I feel her tense slightly beneath me. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

I highly doubt she's ever done otherwise. Kate has no filter when it comes to me. "Yes."

"Maybe this is just genuine help," she admits, her fingers still massaging my messy strands. "Like I said, a man like him wouldn't just ruin na intern's chances like that. You'd have much to lose."

Good point. Not everything is about sex and kisses. Some men really want to help. Even if the vast majority likes some fresh meat to ease their loneliness.

"You're right," I say, feeling much more relieved. "He's not like that. I know he's a heartthrob in this city, but he's my boss. Some limits aren't to be crossed."

In many ways, Kate is the closest thing I would ever get to a sister, complete with the occasional heated conversations and disagreements. The fact that she manages to be this honest with me leaves me more secure. She reads people like no other. As gallant as he might be, there's no way Kate would let me go on this meeting if something not intended was to happen.

* * *

I would trade this massive expensive car for any old junk anytime. Okay, so my boss travels in luxurious cars and picks up his interns as if we're to go to the Oscars Gala. That is just how the upper society rolls, I guess.

Damn me and my lack of fashion sense. Why did I even think that a tacky shirt and jeans would fit this? Because he clearly wrinkled his nose upon greeting me at my doorstep. Yes, Christian Grey is wearing some fancy brand suit, enlarging the social gap between us even further.

That would all be slightly bearable if I wasn't sitting in the back seat with him. I'd occasionally look at him from the corner of my eye only to catch him doing the same. Damn him. Why does he have to have a chauffeur?

The next step to this already embarrassing encounter is not his apartment after all, but rather The Escala lounge. Did I mention he lives in one of Seattle's most expensive building? What else, right?

And now I feel _even _more out of place. Not a single person is wearing anything but formal wear. Can I rewind back to when I was picking this bad excuse of clothing?

Let's not stress more just yet. His chauffeur fell behind, leaving us two alone. Well, not alone. Apparently, I'm gathering all sorts of odd stares from people, especially women. They must think he's rescued me from some deep hole of shit. I have nothing against snobs, but this surely makes a point on how people shouldn't behave around others.

Even so, Christian Grey seems to find this terribly funny. Go figure.

"Don't mind them, Miss Steele," He finally says, though it seems he's not bothered hiding his amusement. "The Escala has a certain prestige Don't worry, I'm not judging you on your choice of clothing."

Is that supposed to make things better? As we pace along the white marble floor, my jaw almost drops. This room alone could house at least two families of five. And this is just the lounge. It isn't too crowded, but it's certainly meant to host much more people, and still make them feel at home. Lights come out of every place possible, slightly bruising my light eyes.

We head over to a table for two, and even before we get the chance to seat, a young man appears out of nowhere.

"Good evening, Mr. Grey," He starts, bowing his head. Not sure if he did on purpose but he totally misses my presence. "What can I get you?"

This seems to put a deep frown on Christian's face. A shame, really. It should be illegal that such an attractive man should have to frown like that. Not that it makes any difference. He's just the type of man who just can't look ugly even if he tried.

"I'm accompanied, Ron."

And as if a king has spoken, this so called Ron guy's eyes widen in terror. Aren't we all overreacting a bit? He spends at least ten seconds apologizing to me. Long enough to make me uncomfortable.

"It's no problem."

By the way Christian his looking at him I feel that if stares could kill, this poor boy would already be counting fossils a thousand meters beneath us.

"It _really_ isn't." I say again, hoping he wouldn't be fired over something as trivial as this.

Thankfully, he seems to relax enough to mutter some words again. "What can I get you both?"

"A dry Martini." Christian automatically answers, before looking expectantly at me.

I'm taken by surprise since I'm sure as Hell not touching alcohol. The few times I have have proven to be much of a problem afterwards. Not to mention I want to be lucid during this encounter.

"Um. A glass of water, please."

All of a sudden, Christian laughs at me. "No one comes here to order a glass of water, Miss Steele."

"That's all I really want."

For a brief moment our stares meet, and I realize he's not a man that gets his wishes denied very often. He doesn't look mad. Maybe disappointed?

"Very well, then." He says, dismissing Ron with a final blazing glare.

My hands fall helplessly on my lap, increasing this sudden awkwardness. For Heaven's sake, Anastasia! You've been alone with him before!

"Needless to say you wouldn't be paying for whatever you asked," He points out, leaning back in his chair with a deep stare. "I hope all of this is holding you back."

"Of course not," I lie, trying my best not to look stupid. "I have a very low tolerance to alcohol, and I'm afraid I'd only make a fool of myself."

He raises a perfectly drawn brow. "With a Martini?"

Fair enough. "Maybe later."

What are we even doing doing here? Between the constant music in the background and people talking, how are we to discuss anything serious?

"I thought we'd go to your apartment," Somehow this sentence seems dirtier than it should.

He nods. "Maybe later."

Okay, I'm all for being blunt, but why do I get the uneasy feeling that we're not on the same page?

Ron returns with our orders, and excuses himself out again, leaving this silence between us again.

He takes a sip on his glass before clearing his throat. "How are things going with Kent?"

"Quite well," I respond, not wanting to send the wrong message. That man is an asshole, but I can't really say this to him, right? "I'm learning a lot."

On how not to do things, surely. Apparently, Christian holds a very skeptical look. "He's not exactly the teaching type."

"Well, everyone has their methods," I say, taking the glass of water to my mouth.

It really would help if he just stopped gazing at me as if he's trying to see through me. Okay, maybe he saw through my lie.

I jump slightly in my chair when a loud ringtone is heard. It's his cell phone. For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore it since he truly looked pissed off, but after looking at the screen he stands up.

"I have to take this."

Well, okay. I see him walk away from me, not containing my eyes across his frame. He must exercise a lot, or maybe his suit does wonders for his body. Why am I even thinking about his body? Kate would laugh in my face if she saw me right now. She definitely wouldn't have worn these clothes. Unfortunately for me, she wasn't at home when I clearly banged my head somewhere to pick this.

To be perfectly blunt, I look like a single mom who threw something on to go buy a pack of cigarettes.

Well done, Anastasia. Upper class 1 – 0 Ana.

I dance the glass in my hands nervously. What's taking him so long? He didn't look exactly happy to interrupt our unimportant conversation.

A low voice takes me by surprise.

"Excuse me, you can't be here."

I turn my head to see yet another young boy who definitely works here. But unlike Ron, he's face is far from friendly.

"Identification, please?"

What? "Um. I'm with Christian Grey."

He looks at me skeptically. "And where is Mr. Grey, then?"

Is this really happening? I look around in the hopes of seeing him, but he's nowhere to be seen.

"He had to answer a phone call."

He straightens his back, and assumed his rude manners once more. "People are complaining about your presence, ma'am. They think you are some reporter."

I shake my head. "I'm… what?"

Not long after, a small crows gathers around us, and I can see some people demanding I'd be thrown out.

"Please, ma'am."

"I'm with Mr. Grey!" In despair I then look for Ron. He'd be able to confirm my story.

But that stupid little man just doesn't give up. "Please leave or I'll call security."

"Fat chance!" I spit, not even standing up from my seat.

Truth be said, I'm actually afraid someone will hit me. But of course, security appears in no time. Sweat rolls down my face and I finally stand up, throwing my hands in the air.

"Fine!"

Okay, now it's the moment you appear, Christian.

I pick my bag.

Come on…

People are making way so I finally exit the lounge with two men that looked more like gorillas standing behind me.

Christian…

"What is going on here?" His thundering voice echoes through the walls. Loud enough to stop the music rolling in the background. The room fell quiet.

As expected, the other snobs quickly vanish, leaving me with the rude man and those two gorillas.

"Mr. Grey…"

Someone's in deep shit.

And for the second time that night I see something dangerous flicker inside his eyes. This time I'm actually afraid he may hit the boy.

"Miss Steele is my guest!" He roars, grabbing my harm through security to place me by his side. "What's your excuse for this shameful attitude, John?"

He seems to be gagging in his own words. "People…I… though.. Um…. She was a… paparazzi."

His menacing eyes moved to the tall men in front of me. "This is an unacceptable behavior. I'll make sure you three are rightfully _sanctioned."_

The way he says it it looks as if death is the least expected punishment.

"I'm sorry, but some people here are actually paranoid," He says, offering my seat back.

Actually, I just want to leave this ambiance. "Does this happen a lot?"

He shakes his head once. "No, but I'll make sure it won't ever again."

I decide to relieve the tension. "I should have picked a dress or something. I must look terrible."

"You don't!" He snaps, a bit too harshly. He realizes this, and runs a hand through his hair. "You _don't_."

I swallow hard.

"Since we're here to discuss business, I have something I'd like you to see," He says, grabbing his briefcase to remove some papers.

I grab them from across the table.

As my eyes roam through them, I can't quite believe what I'm reading. Is this even real?

"What do you think?" He asks, smiling kindly.

"Um…" I manage to blurt out, extending them back to him, but failing miserable as his glass looses balance and spills the content on him.

"Oh my!" I immediately shriek, and as a reflex I stand to grab a napkin to clean the liquid off his clothes.

Before I can even touch him, he grabs my wrist.

"Don't."


End file.
